The alarm clock on the bedside table endlessly counts the seconds and I count them too, while a lot of questions fill my head. Too many questions. My crazy questions of the night.

"Why this noise usually helps me to sleep, but tonight us keeping me awake? Why do I itch everywhere? Is it possible to replicate gravity, in space? Why do we have tears when we cry? I mean, why do we leak water from our eyes, as a response to an emotional stimulation? And, above all, how did Steve fall asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow?"

He was tired. Me too, for God's sake. At dinner time I felt all the fatigue of all the week, all of a sudden, and staying awake was such a desperate mission that I'd fall crying on the carpet, to fall asleep on it.

But now, nothing, I'm awake. Another minute. Two more. Five. Ten.

It's cos of the tea. Too strong: "Do you want some more milk in it?" "No, don't worry!".

Tsk, don't worry. And that's the result, it's two hours I'm lying in bed, counting the seconds with the alarm clock and with the clock in the kitchen, that seems its echo.

Helen Keller's book is on the bedside table too, so close, so far: I'm in Steve's hug and he's sleeping so well, and even if I'm so envying him, I don't feel like waking him up too.

Between me and the book, there it is: my mobile phone charging and, suddenly, I don't have any question to ask omniscient Google.

A tweet! Was it a tweet or some door squeaking? It sounded like a tweet to me. But it can't be, cos it's just around 2:00, it's too early and... I wonder at what time do birds start singing... And I wonder if there's a species that starts earlier than the others... Or maybe they start as simply as that, depending on who wakes up first?

Let's see... Focus. It's the first site I find and it's enough for me to like it, cos it's not really easy to read the phone while lying, with your face squashed on the pillow.

The blackbird! Well, yes, it's true. In Rome they would often wake me up. At 4:00, congratulations!

Oh, ok, the one I hear when I go to work is a song thrush.

The robin...

And so I manage to discover that those who wake up earlier have bigger eyes, cos they wake up when it's still dark, cos they eat worms and we all know (do we?) that worms come out from the ground before the sunrise. I'll keep that in mind.

So the wren, the chiffchaff and the blac cap eat insects and they start singing at around 5:00, when flies, mosquitoes and spiders are more active, well well...

And here they are, we only missed those that eat seeds, who wake up at around 6:00, when the sun already rose, so they have smaller eyes, cos the sun is already up in the sky anyway and they can see around.

Good, I found an answer to my question, but I have another question already, although they say that reading helps you relax and fall asleep: why do birds sing so loudly in the morning? Or it's just an impression and they just sound more loud, cos of the silence that surrounds everything?

What makes me happy is that, apparently, I'm not the only crazy sleepless person who thought about it, cos on the same page I find the link to an article called "Why do birds tweet at dawn?".Cos they're weak. Be aware of that.When I'm weak cos I just woke up, cos I spent a night without eating, I can't even open the lid of the milk bottle and I have to cry for help to Steve, who has fun, surprised of my miserable sosftness, imagine if I could sing!But they sing and, according to Focus, they do it to appear cool to the eyes of the females:"Look at him, even if he's weak cos he didn't eat all night, he still has such a loud voice! I made my choice: he'll be the father of my chicks!"Oh well, I've always known I'm more like a letargic hedgehog than a sparkling great tit who sings at 4:00 (at 5:00 even, cos they eat insects).And when does the rooster sing?Focus doesn't follow me anymore, I'm the only one who ever wondered that, no links to other articles and I have to find another website.Stupid sensational articles where they announce the world that scientists from Albuquerque's University in Minnesota discovered the rooster doesn't sing cos the sun rises, nor the sun rises cos the rooster sings, what did you think, decades of research to realise that.Grandmother had a rooster when I was a child, that was nearly as tall as I was. Let's see if I can find a picture of it!Not this, not this, too small, too white, this is a drawing, this one has a fringe that covers the crown... Tail too short, this other one is too long, drawing, drawing, nearly there, but this one has a green tail, grandmother's one had a barred tail... This one is ALL barred, for God sake! I must say he's cool... But...The strong temptation of joining a farmers forum to describe grandmother's rooster and know what breed it was is defeated (only slightly) by the curiosity to know more about this other rooster.An so the night went on like that, until finally a hint of sleepy feeling made my eyelids heavier, I put back the mobile phone on the bedside table and I joined Steve in Morpheus arms.

From last night I learned something more about our feathered friends.

And anyway, if you want cool hens, consider Amrock ones: they're very beautiful, docile and productive.